


between hammer and anvil

by averzierlia



Series: Erik-the-Blacksmith/Charles-the-Noble-turned-Apprentice [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: AU - Middle Ages, Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-24
Updated: 2011-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:45:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averzierlia/pseuds/averzierlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is on the run from a mob that is trying to burn him at the stake when he meets Erik the blacksmith. This is both a blessing and a curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	between hammer and anvil

**Author's Note:**

> for the domestic/tradesman kink square on my kink bingo card. Um, Logan doesn't actually show up but I do reference him in a roundabout way.

The first conversation Charles ever has with Erik goes something like this:

“So you must be the witch everyone is hunting for,” the blacksmith states, after opening his barn and finding Charles inside.

Charles is tired and hungry and sore from three days of running. He meets the blacksmith’s eyes in defeat and nods.

“No point in you staying in the barn,” the blacksmith says, holding the door open wider.

“You aren’t afraid I’ll curse you?” Charles asks, but he doesn’t really mean it. The worst that the man can do is throw him to the mob, but Charles doesn’t think he will.

“If you were a witch you wouldn’t have gotten past the wards,” the man says, turning and heading back to his house.

Charles makes a thoughtful noise in his throat. “I’d wondered what those runes carved on the cornerstones were for. It’s fascinating actually, what language are they in? I thought they were Latin at first but I had some time to think about it and-”

“I can see you’re going to be a perfect houseguest,” the man comments idly, and Charles’ teeth click shut. “I’m Erik, by the way.”

“…Charles,” Charles offers, and then Erik offers him a job as his apprentice.

*

Charles spends the first day working in the forge alone, organizing everything, as per Erik’s instructions. It was, to say the least, a bloody mess. Tools were mixed in with scrap, scrap was mixed in with swords, and Charles doesn’t even want to think about the three hours he spent separating different lengths of iron.

On the second day, he arrives an hour after sunrise to find Erik bent over the anvil working, in only trousers and a leather apron, which causes him to nearly choke on his tongue.

 _You thought this was a good idea,_ he tells himself firmly, _never mind that part of the reason why you’re labeled a witch is because of what you got up to with the Stable Master. Erik offered you a job, the least you can do is act appropriately._

But he spends the rest of the day sneaking glances at Erik when he knows Erik isn’t looking.

That night, curled up on his cot in the loft of Erik’s house, Charles presses one hand to his mouth and wraps the other, spit-slicked, around his throbbing prick. He muffles his moans against his hand as he strokes himself roughly, imagining Erik’s muscles gleaming with sweat as he swings his hammer, Erik shoving a glowing hot sword into a bucket of water, Erik pinning him roughly against the wall and just _taking_ , like Charles wants him to.

He comes with a quiet howl muffled against his hand, and as he falls into an exhausted sleep, thinks _well this is just **perfect**_.

*

It gets worse.

Charles can’t stop looking at Erik as he works now, to the point where Erik starts giving him amused looks the third day in. By the fifth day he has to take a break every couple of hours to take care of the erection that he gets watching Erik work, sweat soaked and grunting with every swing of the hammer. He decides that the recovery time of youth isn’t something he enjoys anymore, because the relief he gets lasts less and less as they days go by. By the sixth day, he’s ruining the metal that Erik has set him to working on, telling Charles that if he’s going to be Erik’s apprentice it’s going to be an actual apprenticeship.

On the seventh day he shows up at the forge at dawn, having given up on sleep. Erik is already there, because of course he is, why would Charles get the chance to work on making a horse shoe in peace?

He strokes the fire and starts to retrieve his tools and a length of iron but is stopped by Erik, who says “Come here, Charles.”

Charles closes his eyes in dread for a few seconds before turning and making his way over to Erik, who is leaning against the anvil, twirling his favorite hammer with one hand. Charles swallows heavily at the sight.

“So I couldn’t decide if I was reading you correctly,” Erik says, and Charles tears his eyes away from the hand holding the hammer and looks at Erik wide eyed.

“You like working men,” Erik states, and it isn’t a question at all, so Charles doesn’t try to form coherent words, because he’s just noticed that Erik doesn’t have his apron on yet, and is dressed in plain trousers and nothing else. He swallows again.

Erik raises his eyebrow and Charles realizes that a response is required.

“It helps that you’re…attractive,” Charles fumbles out, “but, yes, I like working men.”

Erik makes a thoughtful noise and rakes his eyes over Charles, and Charles shivers.

Erik grins, mouth stretched wide and showing the majority of his teeth, and Charles is reminded uncomfortably of the time a wolf wandered onto the grounds and ripped open a cow.

“I think we can work something out,” Erik says, voice low and intimate as he puts down the hammer and leans forward. “If that’s all right with you Charles?”

Charles response is a strangled combination of a moan and a gasp as Erik cups his face in his hands. Erik’s answering chuckle is muffled against Charles’ lips and Charles spares a moment to thank whatever god had taken an interest in his life, because being labeled as a witch has turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to him.


End file.
